


Deus Ex Machina

by SerotoninShift



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Parenting, Drift Compatibility, Enemies to friends to fuckbuddies to lovers, Imprisonment, Mecha, Multi, Piloting a giant mech together, References to homophobia and homophobic violence, inspired by pacific rim, is really so homoerotic, weird science
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23166367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerotoninShift/pseuds/SerotoninShift
Summary: What if Kray Foresight hadn’t killed Deus Prometh? What if Prometech pod technology had entered the R & D stage?
Relationships: Aina Ardebit/Thyma, Gueira/Meis (Promare), Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos, Lucia Fex/Varys Truss
Comments: 34
Kudos: 96





	1. Aut viam inveniam aut faciam

Lio is about to walk into the control center when he sees that his pilot is already there. The man fidgeting uncomfortably in one of the hard chairs by the catwalk was in a different test group than Lio, on a different schedule, so they haven’t directly interacted. But Lio recognizes the shock of blue hair; this particular loudmouth has never been shy about making himself known. And around here, Galo Thymos is certainly _known_. Lio’s heart sinks a little. Of _course_ Foresight stuck him with Galo for what might be Lio’s last test run if he’s not careful; that blond fascist would just _love_ to see Lio fail. Foresight would have kicked Lio out long ago, if the potential backlash hadn’t been a threat to the reputation of his precious _integration_ program.

Lio hangs back for a second, watching Galo through the window in the control center door. Galo leans over, eyeing one of the control panels. Then he reaches out and idly pushes a button.

A red light starts blinking on the control panel, and something beeps loudly. Galo frantically pushes the button again until the red light goes off and the beeping stops. He looks around guiltily. Seeing no one, he slumps back into the chair, crosses his arms, and starts manically tapping his foot.

Yeah. This guy is a _moron._

***

Galo hears a clack of bootheels and looks up. _Finally,_ they can get started! But the man who walks in isn’t wearing the white lab coat of a tech. He’s wearing civilian clothes, and has more belts on than is correct or decent. You need _one_ belt, to hold up your pants; this guy has at _least_ five, and most of them look like they don’t even _do_ anything. His teal crop-top cuts off just short enough to show a tiny bit of lean stomach above the high waist of his black pants, and the neck is wide enough to show quite a lot of pale shoulder and collarbone. Printed on the front of the shirt in black letters is _100% that bitch._ Galo’s seen this guy around, and knows who he is, though Lio Fotia has never been particularly outgoing. His reputation precedes him, and his mint-green hair and _interesting_ fashion sense are hard to miss; it’s like he dresses that way _specifically_ to make Galo uncomfortable.

He looks at Galo coolly from across the room. His eyes are large in his pale face, and a weird shade of pink. Galo squints. Is he wearing _eyeliner?_ Lio reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, crosses his arms, and cocks his hip just slightly. The heels of his knee-high black boots are a little taller, a little narrower, and a little _sharper_ than they have any right to be.

Yeah. This guy is a _punk._

***

“Galo Thymos?” Lio says.

“You’re lookin’ at him!” the blue-haired man says, standing up.

“I guess they put us together for this test run,” Lio says.

“Lucky you!” Galo says. “We’ll be in the Deus Ex Machina. I looked up all the specs last night. Should be cool!”

“I’ve never powered the Deus Ex,” Lio says. He looks Galo up and down. “You seem pretty certain we’ll get it running.”

Galo straightens. “We totally got this,” he says assuredly. He gives Lio a double thumbs-up.

Lio taps his lip. “I hear you have a ninety-eight percent success rate in simulation.”

Galo puffs up a little. “They don’t call me the _great_ Galo Thymos for nothin’!” he says proudly.

“Nobody calls you that,” Lio says.

 _“I_ call me that!” Galo says.

“I also heard,” Lio says, letting an edge creep into his voice, “that you’re about to wash out of the program because you can’t resonate with anyone in _real life.”_

Galo deflates. It’s actually… sad, how crestfallen he looks. Granted, Lio had been aiming to take him down a peg, but this is almost alarming.

It only lasts for a second, though. Galo immediately, almost defiantly, perks up.

“I just haven’t met my match yet!” he says, jabbing a thumb into his chest. “None of you Burnish can compete with my _burning soul!_ I resonate at, like, a higher frequency than normal or something. It’s more than most people can _handle_ , I guess! Don’t worry if you can’t do it, either. I’ve heard things about _you,_ too.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“That you’re super-powerful, but you’re insubordinate and have an attitude problem.” Galo looks him up and down in turn. “Yeah, I can see it,” he says thoughtfully.

Lio bristles. “I’m also your last chance to make pilot. You _sure_ you want to talk to me that way?”

Galo scoffs. “I’m _your_ last chance to avoid getting kicked out of the program, is the way I hear it. I think I can talk to you however I want.”

“I could literally incinerate you where you stand.”

“You wouldn’t be the first one to try it!” Galo says, and starts rolling up his sleeve.

His left arm is a mess, the skin striated with whorled burn scars. He keeps rolling up his sleeve, and the scars keep going, all the way to his shoulder.

Lio pushes down a wave of shock. The scars are clearly from Burnish flames; they’ve got the distinctive branching patterns of Lichtenberg figures.

“How did that happen?” Lio asks suspiciously.

Galo eyes him.

“I was just doing my job. I rescued a girl from a burning building, but the stress made her go Burnish. She couldn't control it. Not her fault.” He shrugs. 

“You were in Burning Rescue before this.” Galo’s history is pretty well-known among the Burnish, considering his connection to Kray.

Galo grins. “Yeah! The whole team came over to the program, since we have so much mech piloting experience! Burnish and firefighters, working together! Pretty cool, right?”

Lio stares at him, but he can’t detect a hint of irony. The idiot is completely sincere.

“I guess,” Lio says.

Before he can say anything else, the door opens and a group of lab coated techs troop in, led by Heris. 

“Hello, boys,” she says coolly, appraising them both. “You ready for this?”

“Yeah!” Galo says, with startling enthusiasm for someone who’s failed every test run he’s been put through so far. The techs start taking their seats at the control panels. Heris smiles a faint smile.

“Well, get suited up,” she says. “Let’s see what you can do.”

***

They change in the “green room.” Galo can’t help glancing at Lio out of the corner of his eye as Lio strips off his boots. Without them, he loses like three inches; he’s short and skinny, all wiry muscle and sharp lines. But he has an outsized presence for someone so tiny. Galo looks away quickly when Lio starts taking off his shirt. Time to get ready! Lio has less to put on; if Galo doesn’t get going he’s going to keep the guy waiting. Powercores get to just wear shorts. Galo is honestly a little jealous; shorts seem way more comfortable than the wetsuit-like drivesuit interface Galo has to wiggle into. He pulls the drivesuit interface out of his locker, starts stripping off his civvies.

He flashes back on his last conversation with Kray; Kray had looked… _disappointed,_ and Galo can’t really blame him, if he’s honest. Galo hasn’t had _quite_ the amount of success either of them had been expecting, considering how well he’d done on the aptitude tests, and in simulation. Galo had insisted it was only a matter of time, but Kray had seemed unconvinced. He told Galo he wanted to see results sooner rather than later; he was giving him one last chance. Galo shifts his mind away from the faint disdain that had crept into Kray’s expression when he delivered the ultimatum. Instead, he focuses on getting ready for what he’s _sure_ will be a successful attempt at getting the Deus Ex Machina running.

Despite everything, he’s got a good feeling about this.

***

Lio studiously avoids looking at Galo as they’re changing, keeping his back to him as he strips and pulls on the skin-tight shorts that will be his only shield. Lio hates the necessity of going nearly naked into the mech, but direct skin contact with the conductive gel makes it more effective, and if Galo is really as much of a dud as gossip claims, they’re going to need every advantage they can scrape together.

Lio thinks back to his last conversation with Foresight; the sanctimonious bastard had intimated that if Lio didn’t “shape up and get results”—read, toe the line—Foresight would summarily eject him from the program. He’d also finally come right out and said that Lio needed to work on his “poor socialization skills;” as if a good portion of his “socialization” hadn’t happened in a Burnish camp under the less-than-tender ministries of Freeze Force. Lio had had to bite his tongue and sullenly agree to undergo “social adjustment training.” He has his own reasons for wanting to stay in the program. He’ll acquiesce to Foresight’s demands. 

But he’ll be damned if he’ll do it with a smile. 

Galo has started making rather unfortunate grunts of effort as he struggles to fit his unfairly beefy arms through the sleeves of the drivesuit interface. Lio has never been much for jocks, for a lot of reasons; at the moment, this particular jock is making him self-conscious about his own slender frame. He takes a breath and reminds himself that he’s the most powerful Burnish in the program; no one, not even this guy, could take him in a fight, not anymore.

He squares his jaw and leaves the room.

***

When Galo comes out of the green room, having finally managed to stuff himself into the drivesuit interface, Lio is standing by the catwalk that leads from the control center into the torso of the mech, back ramrod straight. Despite having nothing on but a pair of tiny black shorts, he radiates hauteur. Galo is starting to warm up to the guy, despite how snippy he is; you can’t say he doesn’t have spirit. Galo grins at Lio as he walks over.

“Let’s do this thing!” Galo says cheerfully, and holds out his hand for a fistbump. Lio looks a little disarmed. He stares at Galo’s fist like no one has ever offered him a fistbump before.

“Okay?” he says, and lightly taps his own fist to Galo’s. Galo beams, satisfied. Lio gives him an inscrutable look, turns on his heel, and starts across the catwalk into the mech. Galo follows.

He hasn’t been inside the Deus Ex before, but the interior is familiar, the layout the same as all the other mechs he’s tried (and failed) to pilot. The powercore sphere in the center of the mech’s torso is just large enough for an average-sized person to stand up inside, made of thick shock-resistant polymer to protect the key component of the mech’s power system; the Burnish feeding energy into the machine. Below it, head about even with the middle of the sphere, is the kinetic drivesuit, standing open, panels spread apart like a pinned butterfly. Thick cables connect the helmet of the drivesuit to the base of the sphere. Lio climbs the two steps up to the hatch of the sphere, cracks it open, and crawls inside without ceremony. He seals the hatch and sits cross-legged on the floor of the sphere. Galo eyes him from outside.

Heris’s voice comes crisply over the comms.

“Welcome,” she says. “We are prepared to initiate trial seventeen of the Prometech prototype Deus Ex Machina. Please take your positions.”

“I’m in position already,” Lio says. “Powercore sphere is secured. Activating subvocal comms."

“Very well. Initiating powercore submersion,” Heris responds. Thick liquid starts to bubble up from the floor of the sphere, rapidly rising to Lio’s waist.

“This part is so freaky,” Galo says, watching the liquid rise to Lio’s chin. Lio opens his eyes as the liquid submerges his head and stares coldly at Galo as he deliberately opens his mouth and aspirates the liquid, breathing out slow-moving bubbles. He shuts his mouth again as the liquid fills the chamber, crowding the last of the air out the top of the sphere.

“I dunno how you guys do that,” Galo says, shaking his head.

“You get used to it,” Lio says without moving his mouth. He’s good at subvocalizing; his words are clear, even though his voice sounds hushed and tinny in Galo’s ear. “Liquid ventilation is a necessary evil.” Lio stands, lets the momentum propel him off the floor of the sphere so that he’s floating in the center.

Galo steps into the outstretched panels of the kinetic drivesuit, fitting his limbs into the grooves designed for the pilot.

“Ready when you are,” Galo says into the comms when he’s situated.

“Initiating drivesuit activation,” Heris says, and the suit folds itself around him, cocooning him comfortably in padding and metal. The last thing that clicks into place is the helmet, covering the upper half of his head in a tight-fitting neural net. It always squashes his hair. Galo guesses this is less of a “necessary evil” than having to breathe oxygenated conductive gel.

“Powercore sphere and drivesuit powered up and ready,” Heris says, “I'm initiating the synaptic resonator,” and this is it, the moment of truth. If things go the way they should (the way they should have gone _already,_ on the first or the fifth or the tenth attempt), their synaptic patterns will resonate through the neural net and the conductive gel to create a connection between Burnish powercore and human pilot. While Lio powers the mech from within the Prometech pod with his Burnish fire, Galo will control the mech using the kinetic drivesuit. Synaptic resonance will allow them to operate the mech as a single unit, connected by communications as swift as thought. 

That’s the theory, anyway. Nothing seems to be happening.

“Do you feel anything?” Galo asks hopefully.

“Not yet. Let me focus.”

“You gotta get your fire going, huh.” Galo nods to himself. “Gotta really charge the batteries in this bad boy.”

“Shh.”

Galo fidgets. Nothing’s _happening._ C’mon, _c’mon_ , this is his last chance. He tries, for a brief moment, to do the breathing exercises Ignis taught him, then loses focus and just strains his brain, trying to reach out to Lio.

“Heris, can you turn it up? I think we need more power,” Lio says. That’s right, Lio’s resonated with people before. He would have made full powercore by now, if he hadn’t mouthed off to Kray so much. Galo suppresses a surge of jealousy. This guy could have it _all,_ everything Galo ever wanted, and he’s on the verge of throwing it away. 

“Increasing power to synaptic resonator,” Heris says, and still _nothing’s happening._

***

Lio floats, his focus on the faint shivers of electromagnetic radiation traveling over his skin through the conductive gel. Usually by now he’s started to feel a resonation with his pilot; he’s almost resigned himself to failing this test and having to face another session with Foresight, trying to convince the man he hates more than anyone in the world to give him another chance. But he’s not going to give up that easily.

“Heris, can you turn it up? I think we need more power,” Lio says. 

“Increasing power to synaptic resonator,” Heris says, but as far as Lio can tell, nothing’s happening.

***

Galo clenches his fists in frustration. He’s going to get kicked out of the program and never pilot a cool mech and Kray is going to give him that indifferent, disgusted look again and Galo’s dreams of being part of a better, brighter future are going to come crashing down around his ears. For a moment, the disappointment is so acute that Galo thinks he might die. 

He shakes himself. Takes a deep breath. He can get through this. Just like he’s gotten through everything else.

“Welp. I guess I’m not really feeling it,” Galo says with forced bravado. “I’m not sure I want to pilot this thing anyway.”

“What the hell are you talking about,” Lio says.

Galo throws his head back and looks up at Lio, who’s scowling down at him through the sphere’s thick walls like a tiny, angry thundercloud. 

“Look at the design,” Galo says. “It’s pretty lame.”

“Focus,” Lio says. He snaps his fingers in Galo’s face.

***

Galo is leaning his head back to look up at Lio, his face half-obscured by the helmet and distorted by the conductive gel and the thick layer of polymer between them. He still looks like an idiot, though.

“Look at the design,” Galo says. “It’s pretty lame."

“Focus,” Lio says, and through the walls of the sphere, he snaps his fingers in Galo’s face.

***

There’s a _snap,_ but not of something breaking; of something abruptly clicking into place.

Galo feels sudden irritation; realizes it’s not his own, but _Lio’s._ Lio gets a flash of desperate hope before it’s drowned out in dawning amazement; _Galo’s_ amazement _._ They stiffen, startled. “Wait. Holy shit,” they say, two voices in unison, “I think it’s actually _working?”_

“Readings indicate that resonance has been achieved,” says Heris’s voice, slightly shocked, over the intercom. “Synchronicity is at eighty-three percent and climbing.”

“Ahahaha, wow!” they say. They have two distinct trains of thought, running in parallel; there’s some conversation in the overlap, arcing between them like lightning.

 _Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit…_ Galo, elated, repeating himself _ad infinitum._

 _STOP._ Lio, firm and startled. Galo metaphorically clamps his mouth shut, but there’s still a faint echo of _holy shit holy shit_ in the distance. 

_I didn’t think you were_ that _excited about it._ Lio, puzzled. _You were just dissing the mech design._

 _Listen._ Galo, sparking and fizzing like a downed electric wire. _I will pilot any mech they put me in. I just think it could_ look _a little cooler, you know?_

 _You want it to_ look _cooler._ Lio, sardonic and amused.

 _Yeah!_ Galo, enthusiastic and excited, along with a jumble of imagery; matois and Japanese Edo-period illustrations of firefighting uniforms.

 _Yeah, okay, we can do that._ Lio claps his hands together. _Anything to shut you up._ Bright flames wreathe the body of the mech, coating it in living Burnish carbon construct.

“Uh, that’s not authorized?” Heris says. They ignore her, forming the carbon construct into layers and whorls, reshaping the mech into something that matches Galo’s vision.

 _Holy shit, that’s fuckin’ sweet!_ Galo, genuinely delighted. _Now we can take this bad boy out for a test drive!_

“Synchronicity is at eighty-nine percent and climbing,” Heris says.

“Releasing stabilizers,” they say. “Let’s walk around a little.” The large clamps around the limbs of the mech, holding it in place, release with a hiss. Galo steps forward inside the drivesuit. The mech steps forward in unison. In the sphere, Lio’s limbs twitch with a ghost of the movement.

 _We gotta change the name._ Galo, all bright fireworks. _I’m gonna call it the Lio de Galon!_

 _You can’t rename the mech after us._ Lio, cool, pale, and smooth. _That’s a bit arrogant._

_You’re lucky I’m not calling it the Galo de Lion._

_Am I._

They walk into the center of the bay.

“Synchronicity is at ninety-two percent and climbing?” Heris says, a questioning note creeping into her voice.

They start running through Sandan, executing the kata with more precision than Galo could ever manage, more enthusiasm than Lio could ever muster.

“Synchronicity is at ninety-six percent and climbing,” Heris says. She sounds slightly awed. A voice in the background says, “Isn’t that higher than…” Heris hushes them.

They finish the kata, bow deeply, and turn back to the control room.

“Hey guys,” they say through the comms, “I think this might actually work out.”

There’s a silence from the control center. Then Heris’s voice comes back.

“Synchronicity is at ninety-eight percent and stable,” she says. “‘Work out’ is an understatement. I’ve never seen a stable resonance level this high. Whoever thought to put you two delinquents in a mech together deserves a promotion.”

“Kray Foresight!” they say, Galo happily, Lio with a growl.

“Uh,” Heris says, “whatever you’re thinking about, I need you to stop. Resonance just destabilized. You’re at ninety-five percent and falling.”

 _Okay, I know you and the Gov don’t get along. But he’s trying to make things better for you guys._ Galo, genuinely puzzled. Lio, drawing on experience, clamps his mind down on his reaction. The first time he’d resonated with someone, he hadn’t been able to hide his thoughts so well. He’s still dealing with the fallout from that unfortunate incident.

 _We have a… personality conflict,_ he pushes at Galo, pulling back from their bond, covering up his ever-present rage. Lio knows about Galo’s history with Foresight; _everyone_ knows about Galo’s history with Foresight, Foresight himself made sure of that. 

Galo—a wide-eyed child of eight, rescued from Burnish flames—had been the poster boy for Foresight’s “care for your neighbors, contain the Burnish” message when he was elected Governor.

Of _course_ the idiot is going to be loyal. Lio doesn’t know why he expected anything else, doesn’t understand why he feels a faint sense of… disappointment. 

_Personality conflict? I’d say so._ Galo, more amused than he has any right to be. _But okay, let’s not think about him any more._ Galo’s mind goes cheerfully blank. Lio, startled, cracks his own mind open a bit, searching. Galo’s still there; he’s just doing the equivalent of whistling tunelessly in his head. It’s… oddly soothing. Lio lets it calm him.

“There we go,” Heris says. “Synchronicity is back up to ninety-six percent and stabilizing. You boys had me worried for a second. Let’s run through the standard exercises, shall we?”

The prototype test, by any objective measure, is an unqualified success.

***

In the green room, afterward, Lio sluices conductive gel off himself in the shower with a suspicious, simmering anger growing beneath his breastbone.

This is a set-up. It has to be. Foresight surely didn’t put Lio in a mech with his pet _dud_ with the sincere hope that they would actually _succeed._ There’s something else going on here; Foresight has to have some angle. Lio’s just not seeing it. All he knows is, until he figures out what’s really going on, he’s not going to trust Galo as far as he can throw him, no matter _how_ well they resonate.

***

Galo is talking to Heris in the control center— _at_ her, really, but he can’t keep a lid on his excitement—when he sees Lio exit the green room with purpose and a scowl. Lio starts marching to the door of the control center, bootheels clacking loudly. 

“Hey Lio!” Galo yells without thinking.

“What?” Lio yells back, without even looking at him or slowing down.

Galo was _going_ to say something about how cool he was in action, tell him how great it felt to finally, _finally_ resonate with someone who wasn’t a simulation.

But when he opens his mouth, what comes out is, “Your boots are _stupid!”_

Lio flicks a middle finger over his shoulder without looking back. “Your _face_ is stupid,” he says loudly to the ceiling, slams through the door, and disappears.

Galo can’t wipe the grin off his face for the rest of the afternoon. It’s a very stupid grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack   
> 
> 
> [Galo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fi9uUTfL0d8)   
> 
> 
> [Lio](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6pLq7cr4y8)
> 
> Thanks to Moshimochi for the beta.
> 
> Find me on twitter @SerotoninShift.


	2. Condemnant quod non intellegunt

Lio is sitting across from Thyma in the mess hall. She’s being quiet, as usual; Lio doesn’t mind. He’s not a talkative person at the best of times; right now he’s still stewing about the ramifications of the mech test yesterday. His synch with Galo was so tight that it’s inevitable they’ll be permanently paired; he’s leery of opening his mind too much to Kray Foresight’s pet, and while he plows through the bland cafeteria food (still better than camp rations), he tries to brainstorm ways to undermine what is _clearly_ some sort of Foresight plot to get inside his head. 

He wants to talk to Gueira and Meis about it, but they’re off doing test runs of their own. Ironically, now that Lio has synched up with Galo, all of Mad Burnish has been paired with former members of Burning Rescue: Thyma with Aina, Meis with Varys, and Guiera with Lucia. Lio wonders again if that’s some sort of Foresight plot. It might be just coincidence: or maybe the sort of fiery spirits that join Burning Rescue tend to gravitate toward the equally fiery spirits of Mad Burnish. But Lio’s not going to trust coincidence _or_ gravitation until he has some evidence that Foresight isn’t going to use this against Mad Burnish and their collective organizing, which is continuing to grow in power.

Thyma has been a crucial part of the movement. She only arrived at the camp a year ago, and seemed fragile and shy on first impression, but the second she found out about Mad Burnish’s efforts she insisted on joining and rapidly made herself indispensable, showing a hidden core of steel. The hunger strike Thyma organized resulted in better-quality provisions and less punitive rationing. Lio had worried so much for her, as she got thinner, more ghostly, and more stoic by the day, but she and her contingent of strikers held their ground until the Foresight Foundation representatives caved. Even Foresight’s propaganda machine wouldn’t have been able to cover up or spin _that_ number of fatalities. Most of the Burnish still have people on the outside looking out for them, after all.

Mad Burnish was continuing to make headway—putting enough pressure on the system to get concrete changes—when Foresight announced the Prometech program, brainchild of Dr. Prometh and himself.

Lio can’t help but think that part of Foresight’s reasoning behind letting them all into the program was to get them out of the camp, so they couldn’t cause any more trouble or foment any more unrest. Joke’s on him, though: Lio has many followers, and he knows the members of Mad Burnish he had to leave behind in the camp are more than capable of continuing his work.

Lio just has to make sure that Foresight’s promises of eventual Burnish “integration,” contingent on the success of the program, aren’t empty words. He’s tried before to get assurances, but Foresight sees any demand of that nature as insubordination, and he certainly hadn’t appreciated Lio questioning his motives. Lio has to make it work with Galo. He’s already on thin ice; if he pisses Foresight off any more, intentionally or not, it could crater his chances to prove that the Burnish don’t have to be seen as a danger to society.

Foresight sees Lio as a threat, but the bastard has all the power. Lio is going to have to demonstrate that Burnish and regular humans can work together.

The Burnish are counting on him. On all of them. They _can’t_ fail.

***

When Galo walks into the mess hall, he immediately sees Lio, bent over a tray and absently shoveling food into his mouth. He’s wearing his signature leather jacket, adorned with buckles and straps and spikes; he’s _such_ a punk. But apparently he and Galo must have _something_ in common; synchronization like that doesn’t happen for no reason.

Galo is determined to find out what the reason is. Lio’s mind was so… _deep,_ like a lake; very few ripples on the surface, but a lot of hidden, mysterious currents. It’s intriguing. It makes Galo _very_ curious.

Lio is a prickly bastard, and clearly not that interested in getting all buddy-buddy. But Galo has found that if he’s just unfalteringly positive, most people warm up to him eventually. Lio won’t be an exception; Galo’s going to aggressively befriend him whether he likes it or not.

“Lio!” he yells, and starts walking toward him.

***

“Lio!” a loud voice calls from across the cafeteria, interrupting Lio’s thoughts. Lio turns halfway, sees a familiar shock of blue hair.

Oh god. The idiot is barrelling right toward them.

“Oh no,” Thyma says. Lio looks at her, startled. She’s going pale.

“I…” Thyma says, staring at Galo’s approaching figure with wide eyes. “I have to…” She stands up halfway. But if she’s intending to leave, it’s too late; the juggernaut that is Galo Thymos is already upon them.

“What’s up!” he says jovially, clapping Lio on the back. Lio keeps his eyes on Thyma, who’s completely frozen, like a deer in headlights. Galo suddenly notices her. He inhales sharply. Lio’s eyes dart to him. Galo’s eyes are widening comically.

“Oh my god, it’s _you!”_ Galo says. Thyma winces. Lio looks back and forth between them, suspicious, ready to intervene.

“I was so _worried_ about you!” Galo blurts out. Thyma looks at him sharply, startled. Galo takes his hand off Lio’s back and reaches out. Thyma shies away. Galo thinks better of it, puts his hand down in the middle of the table. “Freeze Force just nabbed you all of a sudden before I could make sure you were okay!” he says. “But you’re _here!_ You _are_ okay! This is so great!”

Thyma’s eyes are so wide they look like saucers.

“I saw you on the TV,” she says softly, voice barely audible. “So I knew you were alright. But I never got to… I never got to say thank you. For saving my life. And I never got to say… sorry…” She sniffles, then suddenly sobs, burying her face in her hands. Galo looks stricken.

“Hey, no, stop,” he says, reaching across the table again. This time he makes it all the way and pats her shoulder. “No, it’s okay, hey…” Thyma keeps sobbing, doesn’t look up.

“Okay, exactly what is going on here,” Lio says, voice low and dangerous. He glares at Galo. Galo’s eyes widen and he removes his hand from Thyma’s shoulder. But Thyma reaches out blindly and gropes for his hand, grabbing it.

“I burned you!” she wails. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I knew you were here but I was scared to talk to you… I thought you’d be mad… your poor arm…” She’s still sobbing between words; hiccuping, choked sobs. Galo, ignoring Lio’s glare this time, reaches out the hand she’s not holding and grips her shoulder.

“Listen,” he says, “I’m not mad, okay? I know it’s not something you guys can control at first. You almost died, you were scared… I get it! It’s okay.”

Lio suddenly makes the connection.

 _“She’s_ the one you saved,” he says to Galo. Galo looks at him warily, then relaxes a fraction at whatever he sees in Lio’s face.

“Yeah,” he says. He shrugs. “Just doing my job. I told you.”

This idiot is so sincere. It makes Lio feel… _something._ He tries to sort it out.

“Thyma is a dear friend of mine,” he finally says. “Thank you.”

Thyma sniffles, running out of sobs.

“Yes,” she says, “thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, guys,” Galo says. Then he ruins it by puffing his chest out proudly and saying, “It’s all in a day’s work for the great Galo Thymos! I save people all the time! It’s what a hero does.”

“And so humble,” Lio says drily. Thyma chuckles, wiping her eyes.

“So!” Galo says, and plonks himself down at the table like he’s been invited. “Thyma, huh? Nice to meet you! How do you guys know each other?”

Lio stares at him, then sits back down.

“How do you think?” he asks sharply, as Thyma also sits, pulls a handkerchief out of her overalls, and blows her nose. Galo just shrugs.

“We met in the camp,” Lio says. He doesn’t elaborate. If this guy is really as dense as he seems, Lio’s not going to volunteer any information.

Galo furrows his brow a little. But then he just… carries on.

“Yeah, makes sense,” he says blithely. “I bet most of you know each other, huh? All being in one place like that.”

Lio smiles thinly. “We do,” he says.

Thyma looks between them uneasily.

“I hear you two had a successful test run?” she says, transparently trying to change the subject. Galo lights up.

“Yeah!” he says, and throws an arm over Lio’s shoulder. Lio stiffens. This guy has _brass balls._

“Lio was _awesome!”_ Galo crows. “He even customized the mech for me. He made it look _so cool._ We’re calling it the Lio de Galon now.”

“We are _not,”_ Lio says, shrugging his arm off. Galo looks faintly disappointed for a second, but then he rallies.

“Oh, so you think we _should_ call it the Galo de Lion?” he says, grinning.

“We are calling it the Deus Ex Machina,” Lio says primly, “because that is its _name.”_

Galo doesn’t stop grinning. “Aw, you’re no fun,” he says. “Speaking of which! I’m stoked for our test run this afternoon! I better get some grub so I’m all powered up! I’ll see you there!” He jumps to his feet.

“Thyma, I’m glad I got to meet you!” he says. Lio can _hear_ the exclamation marks. “I’m glad you’re okay! It was good talking with you guys! Lio, I’ll see you later!” And without even waiting for them to respond, he bounces off toward the food line.

Lio and Thyma stare after him, Lio with furrowed brows, Thyma with wide eyes. After a long moment, Thyma turns to Lio.

“Well!” she says. “He seems nice!”

Lio shrugs noncommittally, and shoves the last bite of his food into his mouth. 

He grudgingly admits to himself that there’s a small part of him that _is_ looking forward to the test run. 

Just because he might be able to get more intel, he tells himself.

***

It’s easier the second time. Heris barely has to turn on the synaptic resonator before Galo is leaping into Lio’s mind like an excited puppy. Lio holds most of his mind back, as he usually does, and lets Galo play about on the surface; a puppy jumping in puddles. 

_This is so cool!_ is what he’s getting from Galo. Lio’s still suspicious, but he can’t help being a little charmed.

 _Don’t get carried away,_ Lio thinks, quellingly. _(This doesn’t mean I trust you)_ the thought echoes, barely guarded. Galo seems to sense it. His puppyish presence gets a little hangdog. He stops splashing around.

 _Should I… do something different?_ Galo, questioning, hesitant. Behind that thought, a background thought, surprisingly sad: _(I don’t know how to get you to like me)._

Like _you? We don’t even know each other. But I guess we don’t have to_ like _each other to resonate._ Lio, remembering the way Galo looked at him with just a hint of something like disdain when Lio walked into the control center the first time they resonated together. _You don’t have to pretend so hard._

Galo, no words, just a flare of guilt alongside uncomfortable flashes of too much pale skin and too-tall high-heeled boots. Lio snorts mentally.

 _Don’t worry._ Lio, deadpan. _I’m used to being judged for the way I look, the way I dress_. _I know what jocks like you think about queers like me,_ Lio pushes at him, bitter pride and defiance under the surface resignation of the thought.

Galo doesn’t respond to this with anything clear, just a muddled sense of indignation and bewilderment.

Lio pushes Galo’s own thoughts back at him: the boots, the belts, the open neck of his shirt, the nervous feeling. _I make you uncomfortable._

 _Yeah, but not because…_ Galo drifts off into static-y confusion. Lio almost gives up, frustrated, but Galo pulls him back to the day they met, shows him Lio through Galo’s eyes; self-assured, confident, completely _contained._

 _You’re intimidating._ Galo’s thoughts are bouncing around against images of Lio, kaleidoscopic. _You know who you are and you don’t care what anyone thinks. I’m not like that._ Jumbled images of Foresight, narrowed eyes and stern expression, and a desperate desire to please. Failure. Regret. _I wish I was like you._

 _Oh._ Faint disbelief from Lio.

 _Have people been giving you shit?_ Flash of genuine anger and indignation. _I’ll kick their asses._

 _Have people been giving me shit?_ Continued disbelief. _I’m Burnish and gay and I don’t bother to hide either of those things. What do_ you _think?_

Continued indignation. _You’re scary-powerful, though. Who would give you shit?_

 _Galo, are you stupid?_ Lio can’t help the memory flash that hits them both, then: taunting voices, blows to the face, to the stomach, being pushed down and kicked, and kicked, not being able to get up, terror, anger, anger, _fire._

Galo’s mind shies away at the same time Lio clamps down on the memory. There’s a long stillness, a mental silence.

 _How do you think I became Burnish in the first place._ Lio, fatalistic.

 _Oh._ Galo, small, comprehending.

Another long mental silence.

 _I never had any problems like that._ Galo, apologetic. _I’m lucky. I’m not really out to a lot of people, and anyway I’m big enough that probably no one would mess with me._

 _Galo?_ Lio, shock and dawning comprehension. _Are you_ gay?

 _Yeah?_ Like it was obvious.

 _I’m practically in your head._ Lio is leaking confusion and disbelief into their bond. _How did I not pick up on that?_

The mental equivalent of a shrug from Galo. _Mostly I think about robots._

_Huh._

Wry self-deprecation. _I’m not too introspective._

_I guess not._

Lio has a sudden, stray thought that escapes before he can catch it.

_Does Foresight know?_

There’s literally a record scratch in Galo’s head.

_Not exactly, no, not exactly, no, not exactly, no not exactly no not exactly nonotexactlynonotexactlyno_

_STOP._

Foresight, along with his zero-tolerance criminal policies and harsh treatment of Burnish, ran on a “family values” platform that, while not expressly excluding queer people, hadn’t done much to make them feel _welcome,_ either. Of all the little city-states and fiefdoms that sprung up after the World Blaze, Promepolis is one of the more conservative, thanks in no small part to Foresight’s leadership.

Lio, startled, pulls back from their bond again. Galo’s relationship with Foresight is… not as close as he’d thought. Galo may be in thrall to the man in a way Lio doesn’t understand. But there’s fear there, too: fear of failure, of being a disappointment. Of Foresight’s favor being… contingent.

Lio pushes down another hot swell of rage. Foresight doesn’t deserve this kind of blind loyalty. Does Galo not know what the man is really _like?_ Does he not understand…

Heris interrupts Lio’s blockaded thoughts.

“Disengage stabilizers and run through the standard exercises for me,” she says.

Galo is silent in his mind, shocky. Lio hesitantly reaches out.

 _Galo._ Lio, quiet, trying to be soothing. _You still want to drive this mech with me? Let’s focus on that._

Galo seems to mentally shake himself. Then he’s back. Like it never happened.

 _Hell yeah._ Galo, bright, determined.

“Yes, ma’am,” they say into the comms.

“Let’s see if you boys still got it,” Heris says drily. 

They still have it.

Whatever “it” is.

***

Lio lies in his bunk in the room he shares with Meis and Gueira, waiting for them to get back. They’re off god knows where doing god knows what. He wants to debrief with them.

The first time he resonated with someone, Foresight put him in a mech with Vulcan. It was awful. Vulcan’s mind was small, bitter, mad with the thirst for power. He’d dug into Lio’s thoughts, interrogated him about his feelings on Foresight, and then gone running to the man himself with the results. 

Lio’s never really bothered to hide the fact that he hates Foresight and everything he stands for. But he didn’t appreciate losing plausible deniability. That was when Foresight started hinting that Lio might be deemed “socially maladjusted” and threatening him with… _group therapy._

After that, Foresight _kept_ pairing him with Freeze Force goons, people he knew Lio would hate; Foresight was setting him up to fail. And, indeed, his resonations had been just enough above baseline to run the mech, but not enough to synch up and drive it with any sort of finesse. Lio’s pilots had run into walls; tripped over their own feet; almost punched through the window of the control center. Lio, of course, got blamed for being “socially maladjusted.”

As if fucking _Vulcan_ was a paragon of civility. But it’s only to be expected. Lio knew going into this that the deck was stacked against him. Foresight would _love_ to have cover to kick him out, an excuse that wouldn’t cause trouble among Mad Burnish and their supporters outside the camp.

The situation with Galo is different.

Foresight can't have meant for them to resonate. If they hadn’t, it would have given him the perfect excuse to kick them both out of the program. Foresight’s clearly been disappointed by Galo’s performance, according to Galo’s own memories. More likely than not, he assumed Galo would fail again.

Lio turns the possibilities over in his mind.

If Foresight was setting Lio up to fail, as usual… setting them _both_ up to fail… then he couldn’t have expected this outcome. Their resonance must be an _unforeseen complication._

And that means… the sincerity, the excitement, the exuberance he feels from Galo…

It’s real. Galo isn’t covering up anything. 

Lio can usually tell when people are hiding thoughts. The Freeze Force goons sometimes tried to be polite and tuck away their enmity. He hadn’t sensed anything like that from Galo, but he couldn’t afford to trust.

If Galo’s really as guileless and open and straightforward as he seems… 

Lio feels a slow smile start to creep across his face.

He can work with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack
> 
> [Galo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gfamBoa_zYQ)
> 
> [Lio](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=so8V5dAli-Q)
> 
> Thanks to Moshimochi for the beta.
> 
> Find me on twitter @SerotoninShift.


End file.
